I like to think of myself as a happy person, but from time to time I just lose my mojo. It never lasts long though; never longer than a day. A friend of mine who stayed with me for several months observed that no matter how sour or angry I was the day before, I started every morning without bringing the baggage of the previous day with me. She thought that was admirable, but unusual. I am this way, because of something my father used to say:
“The only thing that is certain, is that the sun will rise 365 days a year.”
Oh, Daddy, how I miss you.
The secret to happiness is threefold: Adaptability, living in the moment, and enjoying the little things in life. It was my father who taught me this. You can’t have any of these things if you hold on to bad feelings, so you should ditch that baggage when the sun sets and rise up new, just like the sun, 365 days a year.
It’s been hard to live by my own creed lately. The pandemic has me vacillating between my normal, happy state, and sadness, anxiety and worry. I go from planning vast gardens and summer projects to sitting on the couch, stuffing my face and feeling sorry for myself and everyone else. It’s been a trip, y’all. I hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in a while (which, as you may know, is the best way for me to cope with anxiety), but then something awesome happened. A dear friend of mine must have felt my sorry state in the ether like some kind of Radar Love, and asked me to make her a painting.
Thank you, Karen, for helping me get my mojo back today.
Here’s the painting I made for her:
May you always find your mojo when it is lost, and remember: the sun is rising again tomorrow and every other day of the year.
